Saturday, 10 December 2016

Bubbles...

What better way to end a frantic week in Binland than sitting with good friends eating chocolate cake and necking five bottles of Prosecco....
I had invited my girl-neighbours round for a pre Christmas jolly, and also to make amends. A few months ago, I had invited almost the same group of pals round for a tea party, and they have never forgiven me for supplying shop bought cakes that afternoon, still talking about their disgust in hushed tones even now. I do get where they're coming from as I used to make cakes for a living, and I suppose they felt a bit hard done by with the jam tarts from the Co-op...

So I had spent quite some time this week creating several things of beauty. These included an enormous chocolate cake with white chocolate icing, a heroic looking lemon drizzle and warm homemade scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam. I had got my teapot out with its matching sugar bowl and milk jug, and there were pretty serviettes on the table. To finish the whole thing off, I had loaded all the goodies onto cake stands so that it resembled some Victorian high tea.

Now this would have been lovely just as it was, but the afternoon called for something a little extra.

Alcohol...

I had a couple of bottles of Prosecco in the fridge just in case someone wanted a snifter, but unfortunately, these were gone within ten minutes of the first few ladies turning up. I soon began to realise that my genteel tea party was going to rip off its lace pinny, throw the tea strainer out of the window, and pull on a pair of stilettos and dance on the table. Obviously word had got out, because as more of the girls turned up, the number of bottles in my fridge started looking dangerous. But never fear, we managed to drink them as quickly as they arrived, and when the girls finally left, I was back to having just two left in my fridge, with five empty bottles by the side of the bin.

There was quite a lot of cake left (not much space for food with all the Prosecco drunk I suppose) so I had sent the girls away with small food parcels for their children and husbands. It wasn't till they'd gone that I realised that I had not held anything back for my own husband and children, so yet again, I was in trouble.